Creating Bad News: CHAPTER ONE
No profit has been made on this.
I do not own Bad News but I wrote this.
Creating Bad News:
Chapter one;;
For the seventh time in the past minute the ear piercing beep had got too much for the abnormal shape beneath the light blue duvet. The shape shifted quickly as a large, pale hand shot out from underneath the covers like a snake to a mouse violently punching the alarm clock knocking it to the floor in two pieces.
It was half past six and the sun had barely risen from its own sleep, with a loud yawn Alan Metcalfe lifted up his upper body from the bed so he sat upright. The covers still covering the bottom half of his body the young man didn’t want to leave the comfort of his warm bed, the room was freezing thanks to Alan not paying for central heating.
Looking about his dirty, small room Alan felt a smile form on his lips. This was how a rock stars room should be; he thought to himself as his eyes ran across the CD cases on the floor, the actual CDs on the floor far away from their cases and a weeks worth of dirty laundry.
“Got to get up you bastard,” he yawned encouraging his sleepy mind to listen, “The band needs you”
Obeying Alan shifted off his bed, both feet on the floor the musician stretched out listening to the bones in his arms, wrists and legs crack.
The band he was in was called A/C, a play on ACDC he had assumed but they claimed it wasn’t, but saying that they claimed they could play their instruments and knew what they wanted. Alan had yet to see the progress, he had been in the band for two months and all they wanted to do was get pissed, get laid and just party. Alan had no problem with this idea at first but Alan wanted music, he wanted to stand up and play to a live audience and most of all he wanted the money. The dole office was nagging him to get a job, he kept promising his band would lift off but it seemed the Government weren’t interested in dreams.
Nine o’clock had arrived and Alan found himself sat alone at the bus stop. He had been waiting for at least an hour now watching old ladies wave their bus passes like they were gold, then getting on the bus to flood the town and make the place harder to walk through,
His Tiger striped electric guitar was clutched tightly in both hands held against his chest, it was freezing and the wannabe rocker had neglected to grab a coat. A/C had told him they’d pick him up in the van and that was an hour ago and Alan had already spent two pound fifty in the BT payphone round the corner. They never answered.
“Tossers! I fucking made them! I taught them how to play and how do they repay me…”
Alan screamed throwing his guitar to the floor, the old woman beside him jumped with fright at the sudden outburst, “They stood me up like a bad frickin’ date”
His face was red anger and both his fists were clenched tightly almost stopping the blood from running to his fingers. The bus pulled up, the old lady flew from her seat and literally hopped onto the bus not wanting to be in the way of the explosive grungy, blonde haired “thug”. He watched her as she did this, picking up his guitar Alan put it round his shoulders and turned it round so it was now behind him.
“You often scare the shit outta old ladies?”
An unfamiliar voice asked.
Lifting his head up to see who the voice belonged to his eyebrow raised up thus meaning ‘who the hell are you?’. The man in front of him was slim, maybe a little bit taller than he was with big, bluey-grey eyes that were just transfixed on Alan. His hair was short brown and he wore a suit with a dark blue tie.
“Piss off you tosser” Alan retorted pushing past the well dressed man and crossing the road. His mind was in fuzz right now, he had no clue why A/C had stood him up, he wanted to go kick their teeth in right then and there but they could have been anywhere. They took the van… were they going on tour without him? The sound of heavy footsteps followed ensured behind Alan, he had a fair idea of who they belonged too.
“Listen you; you have no right to talk to me like that! Y’think just because you’ve got an instrument on your back you’re a rockstar hmm? Well let me tell you something mister you’re nothing important, you’re just a complete bastard with an attitude problem!”
Alan stopped in the middle of the pavement quickly, too quickly for the following man who walked right into Alan knocking them both forward onto the pavement. Quickly grabbing the wrists of the mouthy guy he pinned him down holding his wrists above his head, a few people stood in wonder to see what the commotion was about.
“And what about you? You look like the type of wanker that still lives with his mother and goes to college to study economics or some shit like that! And if there wasn’t a crowd around I would fucking kill you”
The man underneath him pursed his lips and looked away embarrassed how the stranger had practically summed up his life just from his appearance. He felt Alan’s grip round his wrists loosen and the stranger quickly moved away from under Alan, his eyes wide and the look of humiliation on his face when he looked at the passing crowds who didn’t even bother to pretend they weren’t paying attention.
“How long you been playing the guitar?” He asked quietly sitting himself up right, his eyes never moving from Alan’s face. Alan merely shrugged his shoulders not wanting to go into too much detail with this guy; to Alan this guy was just one of those losers who wanted to look cool to whoever and whatever.
“Go to college-“
“Collin”
“Right, well go to fucking college Collin and if I see you again I will kill you”
“Yeah well… I don’t go college actually no, y’see because I’m actually a bassist for um… this band! Unlike you, your band stood you up and why was that? Maybe it’s because one, you can’t play or two, you’re so much of a bastard nobody would be caught dead in your band”
Standing himself up Collin rubbed his suit clean from dust, spun on his heel and left Alan sitting on the cold pavement staring as he walked. His mouth suddenly became dry at the dim realization that he had been kicked out the band and that ‘Collin’ had been right about one thing, he did have an instrument on his back and maybe his past band were assholes but Alan still had a chance. No, Alan didn’t need a chance, he knew he was a rock god and now it was his mission to prove that twat wrong.